


Welcome to Camelot

by IntoTheRiverStyx



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Surreal, Welcome to Night Vale News Program Format, Wild Hunt, gothic horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx
Summary: Welcome to Camelot. For those of you just tuning in, I am your host, Dagonet. Come rain or storm or unrelenting stream of horrors being chased from their realm to untold possible other universes through ours, you can trust Camelot Radio for the most important news as it happens.Camelot, an oasis town surrounded by wastelands, has always relied on a few things: Its Mayor will always be able to wield the sacred sword, Field Day is the absolute worst day of the year, the supernatural will always be a part of the town's fabric and the radio host, Dagonet, will always be there to keep Camelot looped into what's going on.When longtime Mayor Uther is disgraced for working with the Fair Folk - a people whose magics are forbidden within Camelot's borders - an emergency election winner is a resident who was unaware he'd run. His name is Arthur, and this is just the beginning of the reign that turned Camelot upside-down.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. Uther's Downfall

**DAGONET**  
Good evening, Camelot. I am so glad you could tune in on this chilly evening. Today should have been a Thursday, but with the Council of Shadows' recent ban on Thursdays, I'm not sure _what_ to call today.

And, really, it's okay! History will not mark today with markers as plain as _days of the week_. No, listeners, today will be remembered as the day now-Former Mayor Uther fell from Camelot's good graces and into obscurity. Or perhaps into the void in the center of town, but those details are for future announcers to embellish. Tonight, listeners, I will focus on the truth as it has been reported to me.

Former Mayor Uther, who was found guilty of partnering with the Fair Folk in attempts to use their magic for his own gain, was removed – I assume from power, but really the note from the Council of Shadows just says _removed_ so that could mean a great many things – from power not five minutes before I started this broadcast.

It is being reported that Former Mayor Uther can no longer lift Camelot's sacred sword. Now, as we all know, the ability to wield this sword is paramount to measuring a Mayor's worthiness of remaining in power. Any public appearances made by a Mayor must be made with the sword somehow attached to them, either held on in a scabbard or strapped to their body. At present, the sword is in the Council of Shadows' possession, and will be given to the next Mayor as the final stage of the election process.

Now, listeners, I know we are all taught the dangers of using the Fair Folks' magic, or even thinking about working with them, from the time we're old enough to know what words mean, but for those of you who are new in town or just visiting or are currently suffering from amnesia induced from looking directly at The Faceless Old Wizard, please, let me offer you a refresher lesson.

The Wasted Lands that surround Camelot are not only unsuitable for building on or growing on or even trying to traverse on foot, but they are where the Fair Folk make their home in our world. Camelot exists only because their magics have not found their way into her very foundation. Those who have been unfortunate enough to witness one of the Fair Folk attempting to cross into Camelot's lands have reported a scream no human could make and the smell of rotten flesh recently set alight. They also report temporary blindness and prolonged hysteria and – well, this is about the Fair Folk, not about the suffering of Camelot's citizens who have – anyway.

Camelot is our _home,_ listeners. We trust our Mayor to protect our home from the Fair Folk and the wasted lands and the untold horrors that cross into Camelot through the not-entirely-random portals at least once a year, not work with that which will bring about Camelot's downfall!

We may never know what Former Mayor Uther was planning to use the Fair Folks' magic for – I hope we never learn why – but we do know that his attempts to bring them into Camelot without having to make them cross Camelot's borders has resulted in an anomaly in the very center of town.

Citizens are cautioned against attempting to approach the anomaly. It appears like a pit of nothingness with unending cracks of lightening arching from one side to another, so I imagine it will be hard to miss, even at a distance. 

Never before in Camelot's history – or at least as far back at the station's archives have recorded – has a _Mayor_ even been _accused_ of such a forbidden partnership. To have once-beloved Uther take such a fall – my heart breaks, listeners. Camelot has been wounded by its own Mayor and we have the abyss in the center of town as a monument to his betrayal.

Any _additional_ monuments to today's events must first go through the Council of Shadows. To apply, all you have to do is write your plans for the monument on Council-approved parchment and when you're done writing out your plans, let three drops of your own blood fall onto the parchment and the Council will summon your proposal right from where you wrote it! No need to leave the house or stick anything in the mailbox or even try to make a phone call! You will know your proposal has been picked up by the faint smell of sulfur and, if you chose to leave your proposal on a flammable surface, the scorch marks. The smell will fade, but if you do not want to wait for that to happen naturally, try Febreze! 

Coincidentally, listeners, Febreze is tonight's sponsor! Are there stubborn pet smells in your couch despite how many times you've washed the darned thing? Is company on its way over unannounced and you do not want them to know the Council has recently been in your house? Did you fail to make your windows airtight and the stench of the horrors Field Day ushers in through Camelot's only predictably portal _still_ lingering in your curtains? Did you forget to clean out the fridge again and whatever has made its home in the back tainting the rest of your kitchen? Febreze! Odors out. Freshness in.

And now, the weather!

 **VOICE 1**  
Can you believe it?

 **VOICE 2**  
I haven't believed anything since that bad acid trip I had in college.

 **VOICE 1**  
Why do I even try with you? Neil! Neil, are you – Neil, why aren't you looking at me?

 **VOICE 3**  
Why aren't you looking at the _giant lightening storm_ going on a few streets over??

 **VOICE 1**  
How is a storm more important than Mayor Uther working with the fair folk? The Ancient One could come into this house _right now_ for all I care.

 **VOICE 3**  
What is your PROBLEM?

 **VOICE 2**  
Were you passed over for a promotion at work again?

 **VOICE 1**  
You really want to bring that up NOW?

 **VOICE 3**  
_I_ want to bring up the possibility of moving somewhere away from this freaky storm if it keeps up!

 **DAGONET**  
And that, listeners, is the weather! Clearly, those randomly selected citizens are _not_ among you, listeners, otherwise they would know that the storm they're looking at is in fact an abyss _related to_ Uther betraying Camelot down to her very foundation!

I have just received word from the Council that there will be an upcoming emergency election! Don't worry about picking up your ballots or showing up to vote anywhere. This will not be like a _normal_ election. Instead, keep an eye out in your ritual circle for the special slips of parchment – I am told they will already be red – and then prick your thumb and _think_ the name of your preferred candidate. The Council will be able to record your vote in real time, so there will not be a second Council visit to pick up the parchment.

You can hang on to your vote if you want, but the general recommendation seems to be – hang on, listeners – Excuse me, Council of Shadows! What are the recommended procedures for –

_[a small crackling sound can be heard]_

Ah, thank you, Council! The general recommendation for disposing of your emergency ballot once your vote has been cast is to burn it _immediately_ and wash yourself in whatever alcohol-based soap you have on hand.

For those of you who do not _have_ a ritual circle, The Faceless Old Wizard will be through your house while you are sleeping the night before the election to collect your vote. If you think you can escape voting by staying awake until the election is over, I want to remind you that The Faceless Old Wizard will come to collect regardless. 

Listeners, the next time I come on air we will be living in a different Camelot. I cannot say what type of different; I cannot tell you what tomorrow will bring or how the next Mayor will be able to bring Camelot's government back from this. What I can tell you is that Camelot Radio will be here, and I will be in the announcer's booth, giving you the most up-to-date news around Camelot.

Until next time, listeners, this is Dagonet signing off.


	2. Election Day

**DAGONET**  
Even in darkness, there is light. Sometimes that light is a guiding light, bringing with it a promise of something better, something more than the struggles that plague your life. Sometimes, though, the light you see is the lightening storm that has not stopped since Former Mayor Uther was removed – again, listeners, I still do not know if he was just removed from power or something else and the Council has not provided any clarification.

Be wary of the light you follow, listeners, lest it lead you into an abyss that thus far nobody who has gotten too close to the edge has come back from.

My name is Dagonet, and welcome to Camelot.

A lot has happened since my last broadcast, listeners. The Council's emergency election is currently underway and all schools and businesses have been closed so that everyone has a chance to vote as soon as their ballot is delivered.

Now, as you may have guessed, the fact that the emergency election is underway means that anyone _without_ a ritual circle was visited by The Faceless Old Wizard some time last night. If you _have_ a ritual circle but are still feeling the amnesia and paranoia associated with a visit from the Faceless Old Wizard, please check that the edges of your circle haven't been smeared, obscured by an object such as a shoe or the edge of a couch, or otherwise deviated from the Council-approved charcoal -covered groove dug into your floor. Your ritual circle needs to be large enough for everyone in your household to stand in at the same time. While voting is an independent venture, the circle itself needs to be ready for a family ritual at any given moment. 

Now, some concerned listeners have been calling the station almost non-stop since last broadcast to report sensations such as the very foundation of the city collapsing under your feet and a hunger for iron so insatiable that you have had to be actively restrained from eating things such as construction nails and horse shoes by family members. While I know these things are highly alarming, the Council assures me – and wants _me_ to assure _you_ – that these are side-effects of Former Mayor Uther's attempts at bringing some of the Fair Folk into Camelot, specifically through what is not the abyss in the center of town. Whether the feeling of Camelot's foundation crumbling is due to the magic, the abyss, or the betrayal remains unclear, but I am sure with time we will be able to sort out what is happening and why it's happening right now.

Until then, listeners, we need to stay as calm as possible as to not feed into the sense of dread that has been hanging in the air since Former Mayor Uther's removal.

The Council of Shadows has not needed to hold an emergency election in, well, I can't quite remember, listeners. I was unable to find anything in the station archives about emergency elections and I will admit I didn't keep my school notes from when I was still a boy but I do not recall being taught anything about emergency elections.

Ah, well. Perhaps this is the first emergency election in Camelot's history. In that case, I am thankful the Council had something like a protocol in place. While no one has ever gazed at the Council directly, we cannot deny their powers or how _vital_ they have become to Camelot's continued existence. Though it seems they are unable to reach every citizen at once. One can only speculate that an entity like the Council that has been here as long as Camelot was not formed with foreknowledge regarding how large Camelot would become. We have come a long way from a small farming community that struggled to survive, listeners, and for that we should be proud of ourselves. 

However, due to the exponentially larger Camelot of today, it may well take all day for the Council to deliver your ballot or ballots – depending on how many people are in your household – so please, listeners, be patient. Avoid the urge to go outside and wander around or eat non-food objects no matter how great the reason or reasons the part of your mind dedicated to rationalizing impulses sound. We want this emergency election to be over as quickly as possible and for that to happen we all need to _stay put_ until our votes are cast.

Me? I received my ballot early this morning – some times after three if I remember correctly – and cast my vote immediately. I was awoken by the smell of brimstone coming from my kitchen and – oh, you probably aren't interested in knowing how I cast my vote. After all, the instructions are simple: prick your thumb and hold it to the ballot while thinking the name of whoever you want to be the next Mayor. Now, I won't name names, but the most popular choices seem to be people who had previously run _against_ Former Mayor Uther in the last election he had any opponents. 

While elections are held here in Camelot every three years, it has been three election cycles since Former Mayor Uther had anyone run against him. That is nearly a decade where Uther ran uncontested, listeners. We have had many, many people move to Camelot in that time, so there are likely a good number among you who thought Camelot's elections were kind of a sham and only held for appearance's sake, but the truth is _anyone_ can run for Mayor and it isn't until _after_ the elections that the winner is required to verify their worthiness and lift Camelot's sacred sword. 

In the event the winner does not or cannot lift the sacred sword, the runner-up has the chance to lift the sword. This repeats until one of the candidates lifts the sword or, in the event all candidates fail, the previous Mayor is pulled out of retirement.

Now, while I know you're all eager to cast your votes and get back to as close to a normal life as anyone can manage in a world where an abyss can just appear in the middle of your town, please, please, listeners, stay near your ritual circle until your ballots arrive.

I know, I know, Camelot prides itself on the amount of greenery and space available for outdoor activities. Maybe you were hoping to spend your surprise day off fishing in any of Camelot's numerous streams or frolicking with your kids or your dog in the countless – literally, we cannot count them and I am fairly certain some of them change location every time they are spotted – but if you call out of work tomorrow on account of having eaten your grandmother's favorite lucky horse shoe she had hanging over the television or burns from trying to melt down the box of nails in your garage for easier consumption, well, I'm not saying anyone would be hard-pressed to follow up given how dark the skies are and the overwhelming feeling of dread most people seem to be getting if they spend too much time outside – especially near the abyss – but is anyone really going to point the finger and cast blame at their neighbor for needing a little 'me time' tomorrow?

Oh, yeah, did I mention that, listeners? There have been reports of going outside leading to a feeling like the Faceless Old Wizard has just come into your field of vision without the associated amnesia. I imagine it is, somehow, more terrifying without the amnesia. I wouldn't know first hand because as we all know I live here in the studio so I have intentionally not gone outside since the news about Former Mayor Uther's downfall broke. And I know, listeners, some of you cannot avoid going outside most days, but today! Today, listeners, with everything shut down save for the hospital on the edge of town there is no need to go outside!

If you are looking for something to fill the time and/or distract you from how unnatural the skies look with the lightening storm, check out today's sponsor, Netflix! With thousands of movies, shows, and other assorted film-type media in their catalog, you're sure to find someone for every member of your family! Household of one? Well, I am certain Netflix has something to fill the void you would normally fill with work or other people. Are you only seeking something to drown out the periodic screams of someone who tried to stay awake and catch a glimpse of The Faceless Old Wizard? Netflix has something for that, too!

Netflix! See what's next!

...you know what, listeners? Netflix's slogan might normally be a good fit, but right now I feel it is safe to say there are none among us who _want_ to see what's next. Rather we seek to allow the next part of our lives unfold without us as we are barricaded safely inside our domiciles.

Listeners, I will admit, there is not much news worth reporting right now. We have a few snippets around town – Avalon Creek Elementary School will be having its end-of-year bake sale all week next week to benefit the fifth grade graduation party, the hospital has rescinded its petition to be relocated closer to the center of town and wishes to put in a new proposal once it can determined the safest place to be relocated –

_[a brief, hurried shuffling of papers can be heard]_

Oh! The city council – which, I remind you listeners, is separate from the Council of Shadows and not only _can_ be seen but also is regularly seen and definitely made up of people and not ancient beings who may not even have corporeal forms – is introducing a parking pass initiative which will be on the ballot for Camelot's next _normal_ election! I don't understand why we'd need _parking passes,_ though, listeners. There are no roads coming into or leaving Camelot, we only get visitors by hot air balloon or, if the visitor can afford it and doesn't mind the bumpy landing, prop plane.

That seems to be all the news I have for right now, listeners, so let's cut to the weather.

**VOICE 1**  
No, no, grab him tighter!

**VOICE 2**  
I can't!

**VOICE 1**  
Sure you can! I saw how you wrestle the appliances when we redecorated!

**VOICE 3**  
JUST ONE I PROMISE!

**VOICE 2**  
NO! You cannot. Eat. Nails!

**VOICE 1**  
Especially of the carpentry variety! HOLD HIM, I said HOLD HIM!

**VOICE 2**  
He's like a fish!

**VOICE 3**  
I AM NOT FISH! I AM HUMAN AND WANT TO REMAIN HUMAN!

**VOICE 1**  
Eating. Ugh. Nails. Won't. Change. Anything. Exceptmaybeyourdigestivetrack.

**VOICE 2**  
Not the mental image I want right now.

**VOICE 1**  
I've heard iron is a ward against the fair folk but this is just. Oh, no, no, grab his ankle!

**DAGONET**  
Well! Listeners, it seems we got to hear an ongoing struggle to contain someone who seems, well, almost possessed by his own humanity and whatever part of his brain is in charge of impulse control just isn't helping him out.

For those of you who are _not_ being aided by family members and other assorted housemates in such a fashion, the hospital on the edge of town is open. If you have eaten nails and cannot make a phone call, simply bleed in your ritual circle and the Council of Shadows will send for an ambulance. After all, your blood knows what you need.

I look forward to the end of this election, listeners, and hope with all the hope I am capable of holding for something entirely outside of my control that the instillation of a new Mayor will quiet the influx of...whatever words you have for what is happening right now will suffice.

Until next time, Listeners, this is Dagonet signing off.


	3. Emergency Broadcast

**DAGONET**  
This is an emergency broadcast from Camelot Radio.

There is something on the horizon. It's coming closer, closer, closer still. You have not moved. You want to move. You know you need to move. You need to move now, but your legs aren't cooperating.

The think is no longer on the horizon. It is here, and it has broken open and, listeners, if you were unable to get inside before the storm started over Camelot, I beg you: stay in the middle of the path.

It's been a long time since we've had a storm give us warning, listeners. For those of you who were not born here, or otherwise didn't go through the pipeline that is _any_ public school system, I realize you may not know how dangerous Camelot's storms can be. 

Yes, granted, all storms are dangerous what with the lightening and the potential for flash floods and the reduced visibility, but listeners, Camelot's storms have a danger lurking within them no other storms have: The Ancient One.

The Ancient One roams the thunder clouds, waiting, deciding if _this_ is the storm they will emerge from their cloud-cloaked realm and terrorize ours with their Wyld Hunt. We do not know what it is they hunt, we cannot see his prey, yet we cannot call it anything besides a hunt.

Their pack of hellhounds who seem unchanged through the eons bay at their ghostly horse's, well, as far as anyone who has successfully stayed in the center of the path has reported their horse doesn't actually _have_ hooves. Hooves or no hooves, the steed's cantering echoes, masking their exact location until they're right on top of you when -

Well, when anyone who isn't in the exact middle of the path _disappears_. There is nothing left behind, no scorch marks, no blood, nothing. It's as if the Ancient One's victims were never there. 

For those of you trapped outside right now, I urge you, _get to the middle of the path and stay still._ Those of you who are new to Camelot may have found yourselves wondering why our streets dividing lines have a wide, shallow groove running through them. Well, now's a perfect time to tell you. 

They're to mark the middle of the path! The Council of Shadows really has thought of everything, how considerate of them.

If you are driving, stop your car, put the parking break on, get out, and place one foot on either side of the line. Do not attempt to position your car so that it is on the middle of the line, because you are not in the middle of your car. And, yes, listeners unfortunate enough to be caught outside in this, I know you're going to get soaked standing out in the rain but nobody knows how wide the margin of error for _the middle of the path_ is and quite frankly I have yet to meet someone willing to be a part of the team dedicated to finding this out.

Which reminds me! There _is_ a team dedicated to finding this margin of error in Camelot's annual budget, so if you or someone you know is interested in becoming a part of what will undoubtedly be invaluable research, go ahead and log onto your account on Camelot's official website. Once you're in the user portal, click _economy_ , then click _employment_ , then click other, than scroll down until you see _'Wyld Hunt Research Team.'_ From what I hear the pay is competitive as far as side gigs go _but_ it pays by the storm.

And, honestly listeners, it's the _pay by the storm_ part that I think is the biggest barrier to recruiting people. We get, what, three, four storms a year? Bills come way, _way_ , more frequently than that so even as surplus income you would be hard-pressed to budget around that. At least it doesn't pay by the instance of the Ancient One, right? Can you imagine trying to plan your household's annual big summer vacation around _that?_

Anyways.

Listeners, I have to tell you: I hadn't expected anything to be more important than the fact the Council of Shadows is tallying up the votes, but life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?

For those of you who have pets outside that haven't come in or you can't find in the yard, please, head back inside. Over the years we've seen that _animals_ are adept at hiding or situating themselves in the middle of the path whereas humans, well, not so much.

Oh! Listeners, if you're wondering why the roads are marked but the sidewalks aren't, it's because sidewalks have a tendency to shift much, much more than roads. As for yards and city parks, don't even bother trying to find the middle there.

_[chuckles quietly to himself]_

There's no _path_ in those places, so how on earth could anyone find the middle of something that doesn't exist! Better to error on the side of caution and just stick to the roads.

And yes, listeners, I know how paradoxical it may seem that something with a title such as the Ancient One uses our roads as guidelines for their paths seems a little bit silly, but _I_ think it's because they play by our rules when they hold their hunts.

You see, listeners, even though the Ancient One uses storms to descend on Camelot and the only human sound they make is to bellow _**“MIDDLE OF THE PATH!!”**_ at anyone who's in their path, it's the fact they bellow a warning before making people disappear that makes me think they take our constructs such as _path_ and _middle_ into consideration. Why, something as powerful as the Ancient One could very well turn every storm into a Field Day with even less forewarning, but they choose not to!

The Ancient One also seems to recognize that our buildings are fundamentally neither path or open space, and avoids them altogether. It is as if they see the sanctuary we find in the indoors and respect that social expectation.

Or else they are bound by something even more powerful than the Regent of Horrors, who we only see on Field Day, and that's just not something I choose to think about unless I am entirely alone and the general sense of fear and dread that come with trying to find a sort of personal harmony while living in discord alongside things so far outside our ability to understand creeps in to fill the silence I was foolish enough to let settle into my awareness.

Either way, listeners, our rules and constructs play into how the Ancient One interacts with out world. And I do not know what this means overall; I do not even know what it means for the Wyld Hunt. Perhaps it means nothing, and thinking about it like that only serves to soften the edges of something we cannot stop, cannot control. 

I could not find a sponsor for today's show, listeners. You see, normally we have our sponsors on a Rolodex and can pick one for the episode, but it seems like every single one comes with a _do not mention in airings that mention the Ancient One_ clause. Which is strange, really, and almost as if they're afraid of having their names mentioned alongside the Ancient One, which is just silly, really. I mean, I start every episode off by introducing myself and –

_[chuckles quietly to himself]_

– oh my goodness, listeners, I didn't mention my own name at the beginning of this show, did I? Well! Perhaps its best to take a page out of our sponsors' playbook in this one. After all, companies that can afford radio advertisements make money for said advertisements somehow. They can't _all_ make advertising money through exploitation of their region's most vulnerable people, can they?

In the absence of having a sponsor I wanted to give you a little longer of a weather report, but it seems out weather bugs aren't quite functioning right now, listeners. Also, our phones are down so if any of you are trying to call in to report sightings of the Ancient One or the baying of his hellhounds beginning to filter into your neighborhood, I apologize and thank you now for your patience in case any of you are not around when the storm finally leaves as a result of not heeding the Ancient One's bellows to stay in the middle of the path.

Well, listeners, that's it for this emergency announcement. Thank you for tuning in, and good luck in the middle of whatever path you have found yourselves in.


	4. An Unexpected Candidate

**DAGONET**  
Good morning, and welcome to Camelot! For all things current and future, I'm your host, Dagonet.

Listeners, today is an exciting day! Today, we learn who will be steering the future of Camelot, who will have the privileged of knowing their legacy will be getting to etch a new constellation in the the stars that are Camelot's guiding light. Well, I'm being slightly alliterative there, listeners. As far as station archives go back no Mayor has _actually_ created a new constellation.

Today's show will be slightly different than my normal shows, but I suppose that can be expected with something as unprecedented as emergency election results. I am still in the studio but the head of Camelot's press pool, Bedivere, is on the outskirts of the abyss in the center of town. His microphone feeds directly to my headset, so I will be able to relay today's events in real time and he can hear me loud and clear, so we don't have to worry about things like mishearing him and never being corrected. That would just be the _worst_ , wouldn't it? I mean, imagine listening to a radio show where you couldn't trust the host to correct themselves if they made a mistake! Think of how quickly misinformation would spread with no recourse!

Listeners, I am _excited_ about this particular unknown. Nervous, granted, but is there anyone among us who _doesn't_ get nervous when we know the unknown is about to become the known?

I wasn't asking _you,_ Bedivere. If you had the ability to feel nerves at all you wouldn't be anywhere near that abyss. _**Yes,**_ even if it is where the winner's name will be announced by someone possessed by the Council of Shadows to avoid using The Faceless Old Wizard as their go-between.

Bedivere. **Bedivere.** I have a show to do and you have results to find out, so will you just cut it out?

_[there is a brief pause where the only sound that can be made out is a frustrated huff from Dagonet]_

Okay, listeners, Bedivere's telling me that the envelope has manifested not more than a few feet away from him, complete with the smell of brimstone and scorch marks on the sidewalk – let's try not to think about what it takes to leave scorch marks on the sidewalk – and the envelope only contains the _address_ of the winner.

Bedivere is going to round up the rest of the press pool and they're all going to drive to our new Mayor's house, I guess, so while they're getting themselves together and moving around, I am going to skip to the part I normally do at the end where I do a quick round-up of news around Camelot because nobody wants to listen to a bunch of reporters try to reorganize.

Including Bedivere, apparently.

Listeners, this is a day history will remember. I do hope history remembers it as a day Camelot's people put their minds – and blood-stamped ballots – together to bring forth a new Mayor capable of stabilizing Camelot's foundation and returning to whatever its normal was that Former Mayor Uther took from us when he brought the forbidden magics into our town.

While we're waiting for the press pool to arrive at our new Mayor's residence, let's go over some of the _other_ news around Camelot. First off, the bake sale was a huge success! The fifth graders were able to pay for their graduation gowns _and_ the pizza party afterwards. Oh, I miss the days where formal attire could be paid for in cupcakes and twenty pizzas passed as celebration food. 

_[a few throat-clearing sounds can be heard as Dagonet's speech drops off]_

Second story brief for the day: Old Man Merls wrote to the station saying he's seen the Fisher Mayor, well, fishing, at the spot where the main stream disappears underground. It's been a while since we've had a Fisher Mayor sighting! Listeners, if you see the Fisher Mayor, you are encouraged to take any thoughts surrounding the fear that you are losing your mind and discard them before taking note of _where_ the sighting took place before any attempts to engage him are made. If engaged, he disappears and you are left with nothing but the nagging feeling that you just same something that disappears before you're even made it home.

They seem to be going on a long drive, listeners. Their lead driver also seems to have taken a wrong – okay, okay, I'll stop, no need to yell _Bedivere._

Oh, I know! While they're driving, we can cut to the weather!

**VOICE 1**  
Left, left, a little more...okay, stop, stop. That was too far, back to the right a little...

**VOICE 2**  
If I go back any more it's back to where you didn't want it!

**VOICE 1**  
It's just where I _THOUGHT_ I didn't want it!

**VOICE 2**  
Why is this painting so important?

**VOICE 1**  
Because we've been saying we're going to hang it for _months!_

**VOICE 2**  
Then why **now**?

**VOICE 1**  
What better time than now!?

**VOICE 2**  
Literally _any other time_ than when the new Mayor is going to be announced!

**VOICE 1**  
No matter who he or she–

**VOICE 2**  
Or they!

**VOICE 1**  
–or they are, the new Mayor isn't coming to our house personally and hanging it.

**VOICE 2**  
They might if you ask.

**VOICE 1**  
Oh please, like there isn't already too much for one person to fix what with the unyielding not-storm where the little chippy used to be.

**DAGONET**  
Oh and I did love that chippy. They had the best fish fingers. I don't know what they did that made them so much better than any I'd had before, but just, mmn, I miss those fish fingers.

But we have more pressing matters to attend to, listeners. I am being told the press pool has arrived at the new Mayor's residence. Bedivere is knocking on the door. He's knocking again. And a third time and–

Oh! Someone has answered! They...seem to think the press pool is some kind of practical joke. That's...interesting. You would think someone who was just elected Mayor would know why every member of the press in Camelot except for me was on their lawn.

Listeners, the name of our new Mayor is _Arthur_ and it seems like he's only lived here for a few months. He is horribly confused and so is Bedivere from the sounds of it.

Well, this is quite the surprise listeners. I have never heard of this man and yet, he's our new Mayor! I mean, he still needs to be escorted to where ever Camelot's sacred sword is so he can lift it. And, listeners, let me tell you: the sword looks so _light_ but if you try to move it? Nothing. You would have more luck moving your house from its very foundation with your bare hands than you would have lifting that sword.

It seems Arthur has dragged his roommate along for the ride to the sword to see if he is, in fact, deemed worthy by Camelot herself to be our new Mayor. I cannot imagine the _stress_ , listeners, to wake up one morning and find that the life you thought you were leading was only a distraction, something to keep you occupied while your destiny waited for its chance to break free of the mold your upbringing cast for you.

The sword, I am being told, is currently in the house Former Mayor Uther lived in. I – wow, listeners, I cannot believe he would leave the sword behind. Now, we can only speculate, but perhaps the sword itself deemed Uther no longer fit to be Mayor and he _physically could not_ take it with him when he...did whatever exactly it was he did to destabilize Camelot's very foundation and bring forth the abyss in the center of – and you know what, listeners, that's not important right now.

What **is** important, listeners, is what comes next.

And what comes next is – oh! Listeners!! They have _arrived_ and Arthur and his roommate are being ushered towards the house!

Bedivere and some of the press pool have opted to _break the door down_ and lay the press' van's carpets over the debris that came off the door frame. They're making sure Arthur and his roommate – Bedivere, does this roommate have a name? What? I - you know what I mean! Of course this roommate _has_ a name, but is it a name that can be spoken aloud?

Bedivere! There is no need to make this more difficult than it already is! I am _not implying_ our probably new Mayor has an agent of those who we do not name aloud! Can you just – oh! Of, okay, they're at the sword, we can circle back to this later.

Listeners, the sword was left in the kitchen. Arthur s standing in front of the sword. He's taking a deep breath. He's closed his eyes and he is – listeners, Arthur is reaching for the sword and – Listeners, Mayor Arthur now holds both Camelot's sacred sword and Camelot's fate in his hand!

Bedivere is informing Arthur - sorry, _Mayor_ Arthur – that he should probably pick a personal assistant. Someone to stand by his side, someone he can count on to know his mind and _soul._ And, listeners, it sounds like he has chosen his roommate. 

Uhm, Listeners. His roommate's name seems to be _Jenny_ and she uh. Bedivere, I can't air her comments about finding herself the second in command of Camelot's fate. Can you. Can you turn your mic down, actually, I'm afraid she's. Wow.

_[Dagonet chuckles]_

Listeners, I can assure you Camelot's new second-in-command has a command over words such that she will get her point across while combining words in ways you hadn't previously dreamed of.

What happens from here, listeners, will be for history to tell. While we will be living out whatever strange era of Camelot Mayor Arthur and his, well, Jenny lead us through, we can only imagine how history will will tell our story.

And with that, Camelot, we will be letting this new leadership chart its path and find the general shape

This is Dagonet, signing off.


	5. Cloudy with a Chance of Fair Folk Magic

**DAGONET**  
I want to tell you a story tonight, listeners. This will not quite be a linear story, but rather one that is brought to life by stitching pieces of time together. And that is what makes a story that survives, is it not? There is an art to removing slices of time that have no bearing in the eternal that awaits all things and joining that which remains.

Tonight, there was a formal Welcoming Ceremony for our new Mayor Arthur. You see, Camelot, it has been near a fortnight since this near-stranger to out lands became our leader. And while living in Camelot means strange magics underpin our very existence, this perhaps is the culmination of the strangest magics Camelot has ever woven.

The traditional Welcoming Ceremony did indeed take place. Mayor Arthur has, indeed, been stripped of the false sense of self the world cloaked him in and so on and so forth and we will get to that later.

As you may have noticed, the skies over Camelot have been cloudy since Mayor Arthur took up his title. These have not been clouds that hail storms, and certainly not a prelude to the Ancient One coming down for a terrifying visit. We have not even seen a drop of rain! And yet, there has been no sun breaking through, no warming the air so that a midday break outside left anyone feeling rejuvenated. At last, I have an answer to this weather stranger than Camelot normally sees.

Former Mayor Uther's betrayal has, apparently, angered the Fair Folk who were not a part of, well, we still don't know what he was attempting, honestly, but from my understanding, the majority of the Fair Folk are furious with Uther's _misuse_ of their magic. Magic is, well, magic in the wasted lands is a finite resource, and those who were not aligned with Uther view what happened as a type of theft. And so, their anger has quite literally clouded Camelot.

But, Mayor Arthur has an idea to try to fix this.

You see, listeners, tonight's guest of honor is the eldest son of the Mayor of Orkney. As you probably know, Orkney is the antithesis of Camelot – a wild land that thrives on the magic of the fair folk, and yet Orkney's soils are akin to that of the wasted lands that surround Camelot. Orkney, well, her people, they describe themselves as a stubborn lot. They survive despite the favor of the universe being withheld from them almost entirely.

The hope behind this is by hosting the future Mayor of Orkney Gawain, by welcoming him and allowing him to bear witness to the most secretive right of passage, the Fair Folk will see that Camelot and her people are content to use our own magics. For you see, listeners, the Mayors of Orkney are not elected like the Mayors of Camelot; Rather, the role is passed down from parent to child and taken as a sacred oath rather than a government-type position and Mayor Arthur believes that the innate magic that accompanies being of Orkney's Mayor will carry with it Camelot's neutrality and promise that our magic is our own, not a magic that will need to borrow from theirs.

Young Gawain arrived in the dark of night last night. He arrived, as most guests of honor do, by prop plane. As I am sure you are aware, Camelot lacks a formal runway, so his plane used the old highway that circles the perimeter of Old Camelot that hasn't been used for traffic in, well, in a long, long time.

I am very pleased to announce that young Gawain and Mayor Arthur seem to be getting along fabulously. Mayor Arthur's second-in-command, Jenny, who will _not_ be undergoing the ritual of the Welcoming Feast, seems to also get along with young Gawain. All three of them were seen early this morning grabbing breakfast together at the diner next to the place that was probably once a train station that we do not mention by name, and there was _actual conversation_ , according to those of you who've called in to tell me about it. While I'm not sure how so many of you were able to fit in such a small diner, I am glad to hear they are interacting like people first and politicians second.

And at this point you may be asking: What story are you telling us? Where in all of these words is story in this slab of information I just gave you as if it was any other broadcast?

Ah, but listeners, this _is_ the story of what did not happen.

We could have had war, Camelot, and we would have lost. We have no army, no way of defending ourselves. Since our founding, we have relied on the wasted lands to _be_ our defense. And until not even three weeks ago, we have been _safe_ from the world beyond the wasted lands. And we still are, listeners, because as I am sure you have noticed, the clouds started to clear this morning and the sun has once again graced Camelot.

We are safe, Camelot, because Mayor Arthur thought to _reach out_ to those who work alongside the very Fair Folk whose conspiring, we believed, shook Camelot's very foundation.

There is no weather to give you today, listeners; instead of tapping into one of our weather bugs, I will encourage you to go outside for yourself and soak in the warm rays of a crisis averted.

As for Mayor Arthur, the Council of Shadows informs me that he showed no hesitation before wading into the inky waters of the Council's Pool of Truth. His soul has been purged of whatever the Council considers impurities and he is as Camelot needs him to be: Fearless, strong, wise, and able to stare at the Faceless Old Man without losing a part of his mind.

I wonder what that means, his soul has been purged. Is it a cleansing thing where whatever he carries in the darkest recesses of himself that are only ever expressed as a fear-driven aversion are removed from him entirely, leaving holes where the parts of him he considered evil once resided? Were parts of his very essence _removed entirely_? I do not know, listeners, and I do not think I truly seek answers to these questions.

Anyway.

The Council also informs me that a stranger wearing what appears to be a cloak made of leaves has been spotted in town. If you see this individual, do not engage: we do not yet know what they are or what it is they seek.

Camelot gets a lot of tourists, sure. I mean, our economy _kind of_ relies on the people who do not fear the journey over the wasted lands and want to see the marvel of magic that is Camelot, buuuuuut but if the Council believes this is someone who needs to be left alone, they are _probably_ not a tourist.

In station news, I found a puppy wandering the halls this morning and I know for a fact nobody has come into the station through normal means. He's at that adorable puffball stage where he kind of bumbles around and doesn't know how legs work and yips at anything moving _or_ stationary. The Council of Shadows – who I _know_ has an office in this building _somewhere_ – hasn't sent me any notices about him or told me I _can't_ keep him, soooo I have a dog now.

I haven't decided on a name yet and I need to get, well, everything that comes with owning a dog, but this is exciting! I'm not alone in the station anymore, listeners! I am open to suggestions for names, so please feel free to write in with your suggestions.

In three days' time, once Mayor Arthur has had time to recover from the Welcoming Ritual, there will of course be the Feast! Everyone in Camelot is welcome and encouraged to come, but for those of you who cannot join us or do not wish to find out where and how the Council manifests a building large enough for all of Camelot to be seated in, I will be reporting live, on-site between courses.

Until next time, Camelot, this is Dagonet, signing off.


	6. Throwing the Gauntlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that his soul has been purged, it is time for Mayor Arthur's Welcoming Feast! All citizens not in attendance are encouraged to tune in to _Radio Camelot_ for a live broadcast of the Feast.

**DAGONET**  
Reach down into the deep recesses of your mind. Deeper. No, deeper still. Reach just a little deeper and then grope around for what which holds you back from becoming the person you see when you close your eyes. Rip it out without ceremony and then keep going deeper. Perhaps then you will finally be able to remember where you left the remote.

Camelot, today is a very special day, and one I am sure will be preserved down to the last detail in the station archives. Mayor Arthur's Welcoming Feast has finally arrived! Very soon, listeners, we will learn what the Council of Shadows knows about how Mayor Arthur shape our history.

I don't think I could be more excited, Camelot. I remember our _last Mayor's_ Welcoming Feast, and let me tell you: the air itself was nowhere near this alive with excitement.

Sure, the air is always alive with countless things we can neither see or feel, but this is _different,_ Camelot. This is a collective emotion so intense it's taking up space, making itself known for all to feel and _know._

Guest of honor and Future Mayor of Orkney, Gawain, is seated at Arthur's left hand while his Assistant, Jenny, is seated at his right. Now, most Mayors also have a personal security detail who would be seated to their left, but, well, we all know what a surprise _that_ election was, so Mayor Arthur will have to rely on his Assistant for security as well. 

Rest assured, though, listeners, if what I heard on the day the election results were announced, I'm not worried about her ability to handle, well, anything that comes her general direction. Or anything going the opposite direction once she's set her sights on it.

The Welcoming Feast is set to begin any minute, listeners. I am patched into Bedivere's earpiece, so I will be able to bring you live updates. Bedivere is situated near the Mayor's table, so he has eyes on _everything_.

The Feast hall is packed, listeners, with guests flown in from Orkney overnight as well as citizens of Camelot who were randomly selected and informed early this morning that their attendance at the Welcoming Feast would be highly appreciated. 

I've never gotten one of these invitations, listeners – I've never been invited to anything, really, including my own fifth birthday party.

But this is not the time to recount sad childhoods, though, listeners. This is a time to admit that I do not know the feeling of being summoned to one of Camelot's great events. Bedivere's telling me it's not so much a request as a...possession? Are you sure about that word, Bedivere? Oh. Of dear. Okay, listeners, it seems that being a guest at the Mayor's Welcoming Feast isn't as glorious as I'd hoped it was.

Moving right along, the Feast seems to be ready to begin. Everyone who isn't a server is seated and the lights are being brightened to their full illumination. One of the servers is being possessed by the Council of Shadows, the telltale black smoke pouring from him as he floats to the Mayor's table. Soon, the Council will deliver the prophecy of Mayor Arthur's time as our ruler:

He's started to speak, listeners! I'm going to patch Bedivere's ear peace directly through so you can hear what he is saying:

**Possesses Server  
 _Camelot, this is the day of our reckoning, the day in which young Arthur will start us on the path of retribution. For far too long we have waited in the shadows of the glory that pulled Camelot from the wasted lands and turned the dust into this oasis._**

**_When we rise once more, we will heal the wounds that time dares not touch. It is not chance or blind faith that has brought us to this chance, this impossible thing, nor is it something we can ignore or let pass us by._ **

**_It is Arthur, Mayor Arthur, who will discover the secrets of Camelot and bring us forward, march us into a new age._ **

**_Rejoice, Camelot, and raise a cheer to resound through the ages for Mayor Arthur!_ **

****Dagonet**  
Wow, listeners, that was...that was certainly something. No pressure on Mayor Arthur, or anything. _[a weak chuckle escapes Dagonet]_ Listeners, there is no records in the station archives of the Council of Shadows delivering a Welcoming speech of such...dire caliber.**

**I need to sift through the archives a little deeper to see if I can find anything that might be related to this.**

**For now, the weather.**

****Voice One**  
What is that?**

****Voice 2**  
When did he get here? How did he get here?**

****Bedivere**  
Dagonet! Dagonet!? Dagonet please you have to cut back to us.**

****Voice 1**  
It's the stranger! The one with the cloak of leaves!**

****Bedivere**  
Dagonet you son of Hel-**

****Dagonet**  
And that is enough of the weather! It seems our little weather bugs are all congregated at the Welcoming Feast, which seems to have erupted into chaos judging by the screaming in my earpiece. Bedivere, what's going on?**

****Bedivere**  
There's a stranger – the one with the cloak of leaves – he just appeared! Materialized right in the middle of the fu-**

****Dagonet**  
 _[nervously_ Bedivere, you're still patched directly through.**

****Bedivere**  
Let me extend my mic then, let the people here what's going on.**

****Dagonet**  
In what is possibly the biggest breach of station etiquette Radio Camelot has ever been allowed, you are about to here this chaos in real time.**

**_Possessed Servant_  
State your intent, stranger.**

****Bedivere**  
I can't see his face under his hood. It's just...blackness. _[Bedivere's voice takes on a horrified, absent tone]_ It's like a void.**

****Jenny**  
What's the glove for?**

****Bedivere  
He seems to have thrown down a gauntlet...it looks like the glove the Regent of Horrors...oh no.** **

******Arthur  
What?** ** **

********Bedivere**  
I...Arthur....Sir, I think he's challenging you to run with the Regent of Horrors at the next Field Day.** ** **

********Arthur**  
Well, alright then.** ** **

********Jenny**  
Arthur, don't -** ** **

******_[a cacophony of shouts and screams downs out any coherent words, then dies at the same time]_ ** ** **

********Orkney's Second Son**  
Gawain, why?** ** **

********Gawain**  
You heard the Council! Arthur's _important_. He can't just go running with the Regent!** ** **

********Orkney's Second Son**  
You're _our_ next Mayor!** ** **

********Gawain**  
If I fall, the title goes to you, _[a mostly-hidden sneer makes its way into Gawain's voice]_ Besides, we know I can survive a Field Day.** ** **

********Bedivere**  
 _[Bedivere sounds like he is short of breath, almost like he's been running]_ Gawain, the future Mayor of Orkney, has...has taken up the leaf-cloaked stranger's challenge, and will run with the Regent of Horrors during our next...our next Field Day.** ** **

********Dagonet**  
How do you know? I did not hear anything about Field Day. Did the stranger speak at all?** ** **

********Bedivere**  
You can...you can just _feel_ it. It's like the events to come are leaking through to the Welcome Feast, and everyone just...knows.** ** **

********Arthur**  
Gawain...** ** **

********Gawain**  
Do you accept me as a the challenger?** ** **

********Bedivere**  
It...they...Gawain has been accepted as the one who...oh gods...** ** **

********Dagonet**  
Listeners, I have cut Bedivere's live feed of the Welcoming Feast. This Welcoming Feast has changed the course of Camelot's history. I am unsure what this means, for us, for the city, for Orkney.** ** **

******But I promise you, listeners, that whatever happens I will be here to report it. It is my duty, Camelot, to ensure that _you_ know what is happening. ** ** **

******Whatever events are to come, Camelot, I beg of you: keep living your lives. Sure, you may be summoned or visited by the Faceless Old Wizard, but that is no reason to stop what you're doing! Sure, we may have just been witnesses to the most unique Welcoming Feast in Camelot's history, had a guest of honor swear himself to the Regent of Horrors, and broken station etiquette, but _your lives are still marching on._ March with them, Camelot, show whoever's watching, whoever's testing us, show the we are not afraid!** ** **

******On that note, Old Man Merls sent me another letter! Well, I say it's a letter, but it's really a hastily scrawled _beware of the clouds_ in the margins of a coupon for three dollars off five boxes of cereal at a chain that went our of business some thirty years ago, but would it really be a letter from Old Man Merls if it wasn't delivered like this?** ** **

******The station puppy seems to like it here – he's very quiet, which I did not expect from a puppy, but that's okay! He is his own dog!** ** **

******Listeners, I know we will all face the morning with a sense of dread-laden anticipation, but again, I beg of you: focus on what you _can_ control, and deal with the rest as it comes. Do not wish your lives away trying to get whatever the next field day brings.** ** **

******Do not try to bring whatever's happening at the Welcoming Feast into the streets by wishing so badly to bear witness yourself in some attempt to calm your mind. Let it happen, Camelot. Have faith both Mayor Arthur and Future Mayor of Orkney are going to come out of the Feast okay. Believe, listeners, that all the changes Camelot is going to undergo is for the best for all of us.** ** **

******There is no more I can offer you tonight, so until next time, this is Dagonet, signing off.** ** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't abandoned this project! I'm just...not really feeling myself lately. For those of you who have waited for a new chapter, you have my eternal thanks. <3


End file.
